


Irresponsible Hobbits

by Not_You



Series: Welcome To Greyhame Academy [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Field Trip, Gardens & Gardening, Light Angst, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sneaking, Trees, boromir worries about his precious babies, sacred trees sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merry and Pippin get bored and sneak off during the field trip to Fangorn Forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irresponsible Hobbits

Contrary to popular belief, Merry and Pippin can behave. Really, they can, and they weren't exactly _intending_ to sneak off during this particular field trip, but Red is telling them all about how to grow grain and they get enough of that in the Shire. It's technically Pippin's idea, but when he winks at Merry, Merry winks back, and the two of them creep away together. There's no hope of bringing Boromir, big as he is and clumsy as he can be, but he actually seems sort of interested in grain cultivation, anyway.

They're well out of the belt of maple, but just over a little rise there's a loose copse of wild trees standing in the sun, and it seems like a lovely spot to abscond to. When they reach it they find a pair of enormous trees in the center, clearly ancient but twined around each other like saplings. They're lightly covered in green moss, and have the spreading, comfortable look of the Party Tree back in the Shire.

“Pardon us,” Pippin says, clambering up onto one massive root, “but might we climb you? We don't have any pipes or matches or mirrors or phones or anything.”

The trees say nothing against it, and so they climb up. The first branching is far from the ground, but the trunks are so vast that it's more like climbing a steep hill than a wall, and soon Pippin is helping Merry up onto that first branch and then higher still. The soft moss gives way to dry bark, and soon they're comfortably ensconced in the highest branching they can easily reach, a sort of bower naturally constructed of leaves and branches from both trees.

They don't have pipes, but they do have pipeweed, in the form of innocent-looking bonbons sent to them by Bilbo, who understands about needing the effects of a good smoke in places where it's not allowed or otherwise inadvisable. The scent is best concealed and the flavor best complimented in hard cinnamon drops, and Merry passes a few to Pippin and lets two melt in his mouth as they sit and gaze over the gardens and the forest beyond. It's an incredible view, probably the best vantage for miles in any direction, and for a while they amuse themselves by picking out Ents from trees. The Entwives are too easy, bustling about at near-hobbit speeds and tending their crops, but they're interesting to look at, too.

“I wonder if there are any wild tree Entwives,” Pippin says, rolling a candy over his tongue. “Maybe wild cherries, or maples.”

“Or blackberry vines,” Merry adds, pondering the question as the breeze gently rocks them. “I suppose it'd be all right to be married to a blackberry vine, if she was careful with the thorns. Not like that stupid cat Sam's old Gaffer had.” Mustardseed had been a sweet, good creature, but also the clumsiest cat in the history of the Shire, leaving more scratches with less malice than any creature Merry had known before or has seen since.

“Hush,” Pippin says, “I miss her.”

Merry turns his head and kisses Pippin's cheek. “I know you do,” he says, much more gently. Pippin smiles, squeezing Merry's hand as they sit in silence. They'll have to go back soon or someone is going to notice, but the weather is so perfect and their cradle of branches so comfortable that it's hard to work up the will to do anything about that.

They're still dawdling when a great cry of alarm goes up. It's like nothing they've ever heard in their lives, but they recognize the tone. Just as Merry is cursing to himself and trying to pick the quickest way down, Pippin yelps and then freezes. Looking over at him, Merry sees a great, single eye, cloudy the way very old people's get, but still piercing. It's a pale, clear green, like Red's eyes, and it stares unblinking.

“Uh, g-good afternoon!” Pippin says, and the whole great twinned tree shudders a little. A second eye opens on the other side, but it's different, clearer, orange-gold instead of green. “And to you as well!” Pippin says with a nervous little bow that Merry quickly copies. There's a great rustling of leaves that has nothing to do with wind, and the eyes blink slowly, one after the other. Pippin grabs Merry's hand, almost crushing it, and Merry clings in return, thinking wildly about how best to get Pip to safety if not himself.

“...Hhhhhhooooooooooaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrryuuuuuuu?” the tree asks in a deep, wild, Entvoice that hums like two voices joined.

Pippin swallows hard. “Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service!”

“Hhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaeeeessssssssttttteeeeeeeeeeee,” it says, sounding amused and feminine.

“Yyyessssssssss,” the deeper side of the same voice agrees, and then both halves raise together in a call that must be loud but is so deep that they can hardly hear it. It hurts their ears anyway, and they finally let go of each other to cover them. By the time it's over, the group is definitely coming for them and they might as well just wait.

Boromir does look worried, and that makes Merry feel bad enough to forget to worry about the massive Ent-tree he's standing on for a moment. Frodo is just shaking his head, and Legolas is clearly trying not to laugh. “Young hobbits,” Red says, grey-skinned hands on her hips, “you know better than to worry your hosts like that!”

“We're sorry, ma'am,” Pippin says.

“In the deep forest there are vicious trees that we're gentling, little ones,” she says. “We were afraid you had gone into the dark where the cruel willow lives.”

Merry shivers. “Well, as you can see we were instead hosted by these lovely... trees?”

“Ents who have gone treeish, in any case,” she says, sounding amused and reaching for them. “Come, you must join us once again.”

They bow to the enormous eyes and thank them for being so comfortable and so easy-going about things. They just blink very slowly, and there's a sound like laughter in the leaves before they close and stay closed. Merry and Pippin climb onto Red's shoulders, and she sets them down to be lectured by Sam while she stands very straight and tall and engages in some kind of deep, treeish communion with the two massive Ents. Eventually she turns to address the group again. “These are Fangorn and Fimbrethil themselves, my many-times-great-grandparents, and they have gone quite treeish in their old age. It's rare for them to use their eyes anymore.”

“Even one at a time?” Pippin asks, and Red laughs.

“Yes, little troublemaker, even one at a time.”

Sam is still chiding them for behaving so badly, but Boromir soon scoops them up and out of range, giving each of them a soft kiss on the forehead and telling them not to scare him so, his great heart still beating fast. Whenever he carries both of them, Merry usually rides on his back and Pippin in his arms. Part of this is because Pippin is a huge baby and must always have all the cuddles, and the other part is that Merry likes being able to feel Boromir against him and to look around at the same time. Now he puts his arms around Boromir's neck and kisses his cheek as Red smooths down Sam's ruffled feathers and tells everyone about cultivating roses.


End file.
